Vorkuta Skies
by KillsMeNot
Summary: Woods miraculously survives the explosion and is being held in Vorkuta. Mason is determined to save him, but with his brain washing never fully broken, what will happen to Mason when he's back in Vorkuta? Warning: SLASH. Mason/Woods.
1. Chapter 1

**"Vorkuta Skies"**

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**WARNING: THIS COULD CONTAIN SPOILERS IF YOU HAVE NOT FINISHED/PLAYED THE GAME. CONTAINS YAOI, SLASH, MALE x MALE, (etc.). IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT, DO NOT READ IT. Thank you.**

**Rated for possible future chapters, contents, and of course, language.**

Pairing(s): Alex Mason/Franks Woods, possible Viktor Reznov/Alex Mason.

Summary: Woods miraculously survives the explosion after crashing through the window. He is captured and held captive at Vorkuta, Russia. When Mason receives an anonymous message about Woods's location, he's determined to save Woods with or without help. But with his brain washing not fully broken, just what will being back in Vorkuta do to Mason?

Disclaimer: Call of Duty Black Ops rightfully belong to Activision and Treyarch.

**AN: Written because I felt Mason/Woods needs more love. First story on . Told from Frank's POV.**

**In the original message accessed on the terminal, it's stated that Woods is being held at Hanoi Hilton, but I wanted more climax to the story so I changed it to Vorkuta with upgraded security. **

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_Mr. Mason-_

_Woods is alive and remains the sole remaining American guest at Vorkuta._

_Thought you should know._

_- X -_

* * *

"Mason, listen to me! We can't just charge our asses into Russia over an anonymous message!" The shaven head CIA practically begged the other who was already making his way out of the division.

Alex Mason turned quickly on his heels towards the man following him. His handler, and previously, his interrogator.

"Fuck off Hudson! If Woods is alive, we need to get him!"

Jason Hudson could only grunt at his friend's anger. All over a message and his refusal to go save Woods who could be alive or not. But him being alive wasn't the problem, the _problem_ was Vorkuta. As he said before, they couldn't just bust their asses into Russia to save a man who could be alive or dead. Mason was getting impatient, he practically glared at the others eyes through those fucking shades he always wore. Mason was half-tempted to rip those things off of his head and throw it against the wall.

"Look," Hudson started, "we don't know who sent that message, or where it came from. For all we know, it could be a trap to lure us there, Mason. You have think about it a li-"

"I don't fuckin' care!" Impatient Mason was never a good Mason. "Woods has save me countless of times! If there's a slightest chance of him being alive- I don't care if it's a trap- I'm going to rescue him! If you won't help, I'm going to do it myself." He spat angrily before turning and resuming his leave.

All Hudson could do was pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Son of a bitch.. MASON!"

* * *

The heat in the mines was unbearable. The air in the tunnels almost suffocated everyone who breathed in it.

Still.

_Lift. Swing. Hit. Repeat. Lift. Swing. Hit. Repeat._

The same damned thing everyday. My arms were sore. It hurt to move. It hurt to breathe. So why bother with it? I question myself with that too._  
_

If I was right, it's been nearly six months since the day I almost died. _Almost_. Too bad I didn't. Death was so much more appealing than this. How I ended up stuck in this shit hole, I never dreamed it. Vorkuta, a labor camp in Russia. It was the closest thing to hell, I guess I can say I belonged in here. The chances of me going to heaven were laughably slim, if you believe in stuff like that. But I would have took my chances. I was never religious, but if god was willing to let into heaven, I wouldn't have thought twice about it.

_Lift. Swing. Hit. Repeat. Lift. Swing. Hit. Repeat._

This same routine was going to drive me insane. Maybe I already was.

"_WOODS!_"

The sound of my friend's voice haunted me like a ghost. Alex Mason. I wasn't even sure if I saved his life that day. I would have rather died not knowing. How I survived grenade explosion at point blank was beyond me. Maybe someone likes me up there. _Ha._ That bastard, Kravchenko, his body had absorbed most of the shock. I didn't survive without a price. My hand stalled for a moment as I ran it on the burnt skin on my left arm and neck. The SOG TOUGH tattoo no longer visible. When I woke up, I was dragged away and before I knew it, I ended up here.

Eavesdropping on guards and prisoners earned you what you needed to know in here. I learned that Nova 6 was disposed of. I could only believe that Mason had gotten what he wanted. Dragovich was dead, Mason had gotten his revenge. Mason. Where was he now? Was he even alive?

"Эй, вас!*****" My thoughts broke when a Russian guard spat at me. I never understood much Russian. "Назад, к работе!******"

My only way of understanding was guessing. It was frustrating, every fucking word they said pissed me off. I hated them. There were multiples of reasons why, guess I never liked Russians, Weaver not included. If I hadn't picked up the pick-axe, they would have killed me right there. I didn't care if I died or not. I didn't fear dying, but I'd be damned if I ever let any of these communist bastards take my life.

Because of a man named Viktor Reznov, the security of Vorkuta had been upgraded, was what I heard. New cells, new doors, new locks, new guards. Gurads stood at every corner, watching us like prey. I hated feeling like prey. You couldn't even take a piss in private. Viktor Reznov wasn't alone. He had help of an American prisoner, which I would guess it was Mason. Mason was here, I knew that much. For a whole fucking year. I was here for six months and I wanted to shoot my brains out. Alex survived a fucking year...

The hope of being rescued left me after the first month. After all, I was a dead man, _supposedly_. Like I said before, I was never religious, but I prayed for the first time in years. Maybe for a miracle. I didn't know, I just wanted to die, or get out. Obviously god hates me because I'm still here.

Sweat rolled down from the bandana I refuse to take off, onto my exposed chest. Out of all my years of service, I never found myself wishing so _badly_ for a shower. I was covered in sweat, dirt, and blood that was over a week old. Everyone stunk. They rarely let anyone shower. Maybe once everr week and a half. Two if you were _lucky_.

I wiped a calloused hand over my sweating brow. The exposed cuts stung like a bitch, but it still didn't beat the pain of my aching muscles. Everything just fucking hurt.

"I heard they transfer American here. Like you." A barely audible whipser came from the man working next to me.

"What?" My voice was more louder then I originally intended to make it.

The Russian shook his head, but I had heard him the first time. Why he was telling me this, I didn't know. _No one_ in Vorkuta was my friend. Not even aqquantince. I was basically the fresh meat when they threw me in here. Despite my wounds and burns, they jumped at me like a pack of hungry wolves. It was _entertainment_ to them. You were only allowed to eat, sleep, and work. Entertainment was something you needed to create yourself. It was a dog eat dog world. Otherwise known as cannibalism.

The inmate had not repeated himself, because by that time, a Russian had barked at me again.

American. Was if too much to think it might be him?

I had to laugh at that. That was something I told myself was useless. Wishful thinking. More commands from the communist. I turned, glared, but unhesitatingly lifted the pick axe again.

_Lift. Swing. Hit. Repeat. Lift. Swing. Hit. Repeat._

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_

The time, I didn't know. I don't know what day it is, what time of day, the month. There was only one time in Vorkuta, work until you're dead. The weather, that shit didn't matter either. It was humid with a chance of you-might-be-shot- aka, raining blood.

Hands grabbed me. The pick-axe yanked from my hands.

"What the fuck?" The angry Frank Woods mode immediatly switching on as soon as I heard those guards speak.

More words I fucking still could not understand. They yanked me back. I fought from they're grasp, yelling all the insults I could possibly think of. Inmates turned their attention from their work to look at the commotion. The _entertainment_.

They yelled back at me furiously, grabbing at my arms. I didn't care the hell they were saying. I **DID NOT** like being manhandled by communist dogs.

I continued to struggle, before I felt the familar sound of a gun being cocked. It was pushed to the back of my head. Fucking bastards. On pushed me to the ground to me knees, I spat at him. They violently restrained my arms behind my back and forced me back up to me feet. They grabbed me again, and forced myself away. But the Russian with the gun rammed it into my temple. With teeth gritted, I allowed myself to be forced away.

They lead me to a bunker, where they kept the cells to hold inmates. I didn't recognize this bunker, which meant I was being transferred? No one ever got transferred. Were they finally deciding to kill me? It frustrated me, I didn't know what these bastards were planning, or why they were transferring me.

When we reached a certain holding cell, they opened the bolted doors and freed my hands. I would have taken that chance to punch each mother fucker in the jaw but I was soon shoved into the new cell. I was able to catch myself before hitting the ground.

"Communist son of a bitch!" I shouted angrily, turning to glare at them. The door shut in my face, there was darkness.

Silence.

Someone was here. I turned quickly to the other party in the small room. It was dark, and my eyes barely adjusted. I squinted. I could see the outline of the other man. And then vaguely made out his face.

I swore I shit bricks.

"**Mason**?"

* * *

There was silence.

Shifting.

And then silence.

For a second, I would have doubted myself. But I know what I see. Confusion and disbelief mixed together in the pit of my stomach. Mason- it was fucking _Mason_. What the hell was he doing here?

"Woods?" A croaked response from a voice I knew too well. It was Mason.

I saw him shift slightly on the second bed in the cell. He paused in his movements. Though it was dark, I could feel his eyes train on me. Mason's outline stood and walked over to me. Hands were place on the sides of my head. From the look on his face, he was in as much disbelief as I was.

"Woods. No fuckin' way..." Those hands started idly turning my head from side to side. He gripped it like he was afraid I might lose it or something.

"Is.. that really you, Woods?" Mason's hands traveled to my sweat soaked bandana, to my hair, and then down to my nose, and unshaven chin.

"Yeah, Mason. It's me." I was barely able to hide the incredibly relief tone in my voice. I removed the hands that were currently trying grasp the fact that I was here.

Then a realization. Mason was _here_, in Vorkuta. I could even say- again. Even if I wanted to believe my friend was here to save me, he had gotten himself caught and locked in this hellhole to die with me as well. That was the last thing I wanted. And how many men were captured as well. Was Hudson or Weaver with him? Shit.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Mason?" I hissed, even though I was grateful for Mason's good intentions.

Mason went quiet. I could see him a little bit clearer now, he was staring right at me. I didn't even know if he had caught my question. My brows knitted together as I opened my mouth to repeat my words. But my friend cut me off.

"What- I don't.. Save Woods. To save Woods." Alex spoke in broken English. I saw him raise his hands to his head as if to block out any noises he didn't want to here.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

"Mason, what's wrong wit-"

"I HAD TO FUCKIN' SAVE YOU WOODS!" I was taken aback abit by Alex's sudden outburst. If it wasn't so dark, I would have confirmed the look of insanity on his features.

Everything went quiet again. I could only look at him in disbelief. Something was definately off about Mason. Come to think of it, he's been a little bit.. different ever since leaving Vorkuta. He wasn't the same. I caught him talking to no one in particular from time to time, but I always chose to ignore it. There was no doubt in my mind it was because of Vorkuta. Something happened here.

There was tension in the air. Neither of us spoke again for another minute or two.

"How- did you know I was here?" I finally asked. I hadn't intended on the suspicion to raise in my voice.

He looked away from me, like he was trying to find an answer in the wall.

"There was.." Alex closed his eyes, as if trying to remember. By the expression on his face, I could tell he was straining to do so. "A message. It told me... FUCK, what did it tell me?"

There was something definately wrong. His arms rose and then fell. Before I knew, his arms started punching the wall while he let out frustrated yells.

"Mason! Calm the fuck down!" I didn't like seeing Alex so.. well, insane. I made several attempts to grab those arms before he started to break his fists.

"NO! THOSE FUCKIN'... NUMBERS! UGH! GOD. DAMN IT!"

Numbers? What numbers?

"Mason!"

"REZNOV! WHERE'S REZNOV?"

Viktor Reznov?

More disgrunted groans from the other.

I didn't know exactly what happened next. I felt my body being pushed back. By back made contact with the wall, and then Mason was still.

The room was filled with deep and heavy silence, except for his panting.

"What the fuck did they do to you, Mason?"

* * *

(*****) "Hey, you!"

(******) "Get back to work!"

Translated by Google, so I don't really know if it's accurate.

Thanks for reading the first chapter! Reviews are greatly appreciated! C:


	2. Chapter 2

**"Vorkuta Skies"**

_Chapter 2_**  
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WARNING: THIS COULD CONTAIN SPOILERS IF YOU HAVE NOT FINISHED/PLAYED THE GAME. CONTAINS YAOI, SLASH, MALE x MALE, (etc.). IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT, DO NOT READ IT. Thank you.**

**Rated for possible future chapters, contents, and of course, language.**

Pairing(s): Alex Mason/Franks Woods, possible Viktor Reznov/Alex Mason.

Summary: Woods miraculously survives the explosion after crashing through the window. He is captured and held captive at Vorkuta, Russia. When Mason receives an anonymous message about Woods's location, he's determined to save Woods with or without help. But with his brain washing not fully broken, just what will being back in Vorkuta do to Mason?

Disclaimer: Call of Duty Black Ops rightfully belong to Activision and Treyarch.

**AN: I noticed there were a few typos in the last chapter and I apologize. I guess that's what I get for not reading it over it before publishing it. ^_^'' Thanks for the reviews and I was informed that Woods does in fact understand Russian. Whoops. This chapter is told from Mason's POV first, the Woods's.  
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"_Dragovich_... _Kravchenko_... _Steiner_... _**ALL** must die._"

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Switch POV: Alex Mason._

Where? Where am I?

Pain.

"Fuck!" I yell out gripping my head in the process.

This pain, I was too familiar with it. I knew it. I've felt it before- but where? I can't remember. I can't think straight. Numbers. Numbers keep repeating themselves in my head. I gripped the sides of my head tightly, wishing desperately for them to go away. That voice, I could hear it so vividly. Repeating numbers like a broken record. It was driving me _insane_.

_4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42._

"Get.. the fuck.. OUT! AURGH." I gripped my head as tightly as possible. I tried blocking out the voice. But I couldn't. I could hear it so clearly. Repeating the same thing.

_4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42._

"_It's a broadcast Mason._"

A familiar voice echoed through my mind, barely audible above the replaying numbers. Whose voice..? I had to remember. It was.. Hudson. That's right, Jason Hudson. My handler had interrogated me before, asking about these numbers. Was I back there? I couldn't think. Pain. Repeating numbers. It was driving me crazy. I couldn't block them out. If I had pressed any harder on the sides of my head, I would have crushed my skull.

It was dark. I couldn't make out anything. I was sitting on something, a bed. I was alone. There was no one in that dark room with me.

_No_.

There was. There was someone there. Someone lingering..

"_Dragovich_... _Kravchenko_... _Steiner_... _ALL must die._"

"Rez.. Reznov." My eyes saw him. He was right there in front of me. I was told my friend had died in Vorkuta. He wasn't alive. But here he was, standing right before me.

Reznov had interrupted my brain washing, set me on a different course then what Dragovich had originally intended. Viktor wanted revenge against the men who betrayed him. Dragovich, Kravchenko, Steiner. My friend wanted revenge against those evil men. Although he had saved my life, he had also ruined it. Viktor Reznov was dead in reality, but he lived on in my mind. He was always there, through everything. Even if he had betrayed me in some ways- I could not hate him. I couldn't forget him. When Nova 6 was eliminated, I had thought Reznov was gone forever. But now I could see him there. _Where am I_?

"Reznov.." The voice in my head had ceased. I could no longer hear the numbers. For a moment, I was content with silence.

Although it was dark, Reznov was so clear to me. I think I forgot that he wasn't _real_.

"Mason."

"Where.. where am I?" I asked him. I knew keeping my friend alive in my mind was not a good thing. But I _needed_ him. I needed Reznov.

"You are in Vorkuta, Mason." The ageless man replied.

Vorkuta. Where it all started. The brain washing, Reznov, my insanity. Everything. Why was I back here? I tried to remember. Why?

"Why? Why am I here Reznov?" I said out loud. I looked towards my friend with desperate eyes. I watched him as he stood from a similar bed I was sitting on. He walked over towards me, reaching out with both hands and gripped my face.

I closed my eyes into his touch. _He isn't real_. But, he was right here. I could feel his touch. I could smell his scent. He was right here. I couldn't tell whether this was reality, or if I was hallucinating. No- he's dead! Viktor Reznov was dead!

"_Viktor Reznov was never there Mason!"_

Or was he?

"You will find out soon Mason." My friend replied with a low voice.

His image was fading. I found myself calling out desperately for him. But then he was gone. I frantically searched the dark space, calling out his name. But he didn't return. I panicked. I needed Reznov.

Light flooded into the room. I had to shield my eyes from the open door.

_4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42._

Those fucking numbers again.

They had pushed someone into the room, I didn't see his face. I was too content in searching for Reznov. He was gone. Why? Why did he leave me here? Part of me was angry, part of me was desperate. I paid no attention to the other individual. I heard the other yell something, but I couldn't make out what it was. Those numbers- god, when will it stop!

"**Mason?**"

My name. The other knew my name. I stopped. That voice suddenly sounded familiar to me. It belonged someone who was suppose to be dead. I watched him die in front of my eyes.

There was no way.

"Woods?" I was in disbelief. I squinted.

I finally moved from the bed for the first time since arriving here. Pain shot through my skull, but I didn't stop. I knew there was something involving him. That was why I was here.. I had to remember, but I can't. I reached out, taking his head into my hands. He was there. Frank Woods. No... it could be another hallucination from my broken mind. I asked him, which was not the most legitimate way of confirming he was alive. If my mind wanted to believe he was, then he would have sad yes.

And he did.

And then he asked me why I was here.

Why was I here? The question struck me off guard. I couldn't remember. I closed my eyes. It had something to do with... Woods. Save. That's right. I was here to save Woods. He was alive, I needed to save him.

He asked me how I knew he was here. Fuck! So much questions. I couldn't think straight. Those numbers were slowly replaying themselves in my brain.

"There was," I tried to remember, "A message. It told me... FUCK, what did it tell me?" I was frustrated. I couldn't remember.

_4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42._

And those numbers! God! It was tearing right through my skull!

I didn't remember what happened next. I blacked out.

* * *

"Mason, are you alright?" A lucidly familiar voice._ Reznov._

My eyes opened. It was dark, like before. I couldn't see. There was nothing around me, nothing below me. Was I still in Vorkuta? I couldn't tell. I couldn't hear those numbers anymore. It felt like I was simply drifting. Was I even alive? Silence, I found it peaceful, so I closed my eyes again.

But there was Reznov.

"Mason, get up Mason." His voice rung in my ears. I opened my eyes, but I could not see him.

I stood.

"Reznov! Where are you?" I yelled for him, but he didn't show himself.

"_Dragovich_... _Kravchenko_... _Steiner_... _ALL must die." _His voice echoed around me as I continued to search for that man.

"No Reznov! They're already dead! I.. I killed them! You have your revenge!"

Silence.

I was getting frustrated because I could neither hear of see Viktor anymore. Where was he? Where? There was a long moment of quietness, and I could swear I had wished for those numbers to come back. Maybe _a little_. I figured if I heard those numbers, I could continue to see Reznov.

"Reznov!" I called out desperately.

A hand was placed on my shoulder. I spun around to come face to face with my friend. The ageless man looked at me, expressionless. He wore the clothes from Vorkuta. The clothes he died in.

"Then why will you not let me die?" He simply asked.

"You are dead-"

"Not in your **_mind_**, Mason!" He snapped, tapping a finger roughly on my temple. "I still live in here."

"Reznov-"

"You must let me go Mason!" He shouted, pushing me with both hands.

"I- I can't! I can't! Reznov! I can't!" I shouted as he stared long and hard at me. "I _need_ you Reznov."

Viktor went silent. He simply shook his head very slowly. I saw the look of sadness and disappointment in his eyes. I know, what we had in the past, it was gone. No more. Even then, I couldn't even call it real affection. But I still needed him. I wanted to keep him alive even if it was just mentally. Any sanity I had left depended on this man.

"You, do not need me. I, cannot save you, Mason." Reznov finally spoke after minutes of silence. "What you search for, I cannot give you."

"But-" I started, but was quickly silenced by him putting a hand up to stop me.

"Mason. I deeply regret what I did to you to make you become this way. I merely wanted revenge."

He paused, his eyes gazing into mine. The surrounding changed. We were back in that cell in Vorkuta.

"But- you have given me my revenge. You must let me go, for your sake. There is someone who can give much more then I have."

Someone? I didn't understand what he was saying. But to let Reznov die from my mind? Never. _Never_. The image of Reznov suddenly became very unclear to me. He was fading away again. I wanted to call out to him again, but my voice stalled.

"Let go Mason." Was the last thind Reznov said before fading from the darkness.

I reached out to grab him, but my hands couldn't reach him. Don't leave! Don't leave damn it! In that cell, there was another person other then Reznov and me. I quickly looked over, defensive over the other party to have witnessed the whole ordeal ( in my mind anyway ). But my eyes widened at that figure. Like Reznov, I could see him so clearly in the darkness.

Woods.

* * *

_Switch POV: Frank Wood._

I waited. Waited for Mason to wake up. The ordeal from earlier, it confused and bothered me. It ate at my ass and I didn't like it. I had questions, and I wanted Mason to answer them. I wanted to ask about his time here, about Viktor Reznov, about his possible strand of sanity. I knew better then to kick a man when he was down, but being me, when I wanted answers, I wanted them now. Regardless of the consequences.

Alex had blacked out right after asking for Reznov. I hadn't known what to say. I hadn't the slightest idea what was going on in his mind right now. Why was Mason so... different? It frustrated the hell out of me just seeing him this way. I remembered, the Bay of Pigs, it was the _old_ Mason. With Bowman. Oh Bowman. My close friend. I would be lying if I said I didn't miss him. My blood was already starting to boil at the thought of his death. My brows knitted together as I tried to push the memory away. I didn't like bringing up the past.

The silence was going to kill me. I couldn't stand it. Before I had been moved in here with Mason, the Russian I shared a cell with always had the habit of always talking. I always threatened to rip his balls off if he didn't shut the fuck up. It was ironic now that I was actually starting to miss that son of a bitch.

My foot tapped frantically on the floor as I sat at the edge of the bed, waiting. I glanced over to Mason a couple of times, but more questions that frustrated me more would form. If they taught you anything of becoming a soldier. It was waiting patiently and silently.

Two things I always hated.

It brought another subject on me. Why was I suddenly transferred. With Mason of all people. I didn't complain, but no one ever got transferred. Were planning something? Or did they just find it funny to stick two Americans with one another? I let out a long grunt and placed my head onto my hands. I would have given all my life's savings if I could just have a glimpse into these Soviet's minds.

Stirring.

I looked up to see my friend slowly stir, and then finally rise.

"Mason." I said almost immediately. I was anxious damn it.

He looked over to me, I see it in his eyes he wasn't all there. Fuck. Half of me wanted to punch him into his senses. I knew it was wrong of me to think like that, especially with my friend barely holding on to his sanity. Well- I wasn't sure if he was insane, but it was my prediction for now.

And what he did next only added to my predictions.

I couldn't pinpoint the exact moment where Mason had moved. Because before I knew it, I felt myself pushed back against the wall, his hands on my throat. What the fuck?

"Ma- Mason!" I choked out, surprised by the others actions. Was he sleep walking? Or some shit like that.

My hands pried at his around my throat. But the more I struggled, the more his grip tightened. Fuck- this wasn't good. I kicked him against his thighs. Mason seemed to growl, disapproving of my actions. His grip loosened around my neck, and I took the opportunity to punch him in the jaw. This wasn't Mason. Mason, come back.

He glared up at me and wiped the blood from his lips. Alex once again made another attempt to strangle me.

"Mason! Wake the fuck up!" I shouted putting my arms up to defend myself.

It took me by surprise when I felt his lips come in contact with mine. I froze. I couldn't exactly register what he was doing at first- or I didn't want to believe it. What- what the fuck was he doing? Mason wasn't exactly fazed, he continued kissing me roughly despite my unwillingness. I tried to pry him off. I was strong, but so was Mason. But he had the advantage of my sore muscles, it practically almost killed me when he grabbed my arms and forced them above my head. It made me gasp when he slammed my wrist against the concrete wall. He also used that advantage to shove his tongue into my mouth. I could taste the blood coming from his lips. The situation was getting out of control fast when he moved from my lips down to my neck. Fuck- don't react. Don't react! I practically I had to scream at myself.

One of his hands managed to keep both of my hands pinned above me while the other ghosted it's way down to my chest, then to my torso, and then lower then that. I cursed loudly, feeling violated right about now. If he was gay, sure, whatever, I didn't care. But if he was going to fucking rape me, I minded that a whole lot.

But _shit._

This was seriously turning me on. I hadn't had any sexual action since... well, a long ass time. And here, Mason- fucking _Mason_.. I knew it was a bad situation when I felt my will to fight was washing away. No. Woods. Keep it together. I told myself. He began sinking his teeth into my neck. I cursed again and struggled against him. It seemed Alex was not happy with the way I was responding. He grabbed me basically threw against the small bed that was barely big enough for one. He was on top and basically straddled me.

This wasn't my idea. I just wanted answers from him, and now this. I tried once more to get him off. I kneed him, as hard as I could. It seemed to have worked. His grip loosened on my wrist as he hunched over in pain. I took that opportunity to push him off onto the hard concrete floor.

He seemed a bit dazed.

"What.. the fuck.." I heard him say through gritted teeth. He looked up.

"Woods?"

I stared at him with both disbelief and anger.

What the fuck indeed.


	3. Chapter 3

**"Vorkuta Skies"**

_Chapter 3_

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* * *

WARNING: THIS COULD CONTAIN SPOILERS IF YOU HAVE NOT FINISHED/PLAYED THE GAME. CONTAINS YAOI, SLASH, MALE x MALE, (etc.). IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT, DO NOT READ IT. Thank you.**

**Rated for possible future chapters, contents, and of course, language.**

Pairing(s): Alex Mason/Franks Woods, possible Viktor Reznov/Alex Mason.

Summary: Woods miraculously survives the explosion after crashing through the window. He is captured and held captive at Vorkuta, Russia. When Mason receives an anonymous message about Woods's location, he's determined to save Woods with or without help. But with his brain washing not fully broken, just what will being back in Vorkuta do to Mason?

Disclaimer: Call of Duty Black Ops rightfully belong to Activision and Treyarch.

**AN: More crazy Mason, yay. xD Thanks for the reviews! Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy typing it. c:  
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**_Switch POV: Alex Mason._

I felt something hard coming into contact with my side. It hurt like a bitch. My eyes flew open as I hunched over in pain, confused. I barely had time to look up because next thing I knew, my attacker had thrown me onto the concrete floor. I fell hard and landed on my ass. Shit, it hurt.

"What.. the fuck.." I was seriously confused.

I looked up to face my the man who basically threw me to the floor. I didn't expect it to be Woods, my friend. But I wasn't completely shocked by it either. Just confused. Why did he suddenly just knee me and then toss to the ground? My brows came together as he stared back at me. He seemed just as confused as I was? I really didn't understand.

"What the fuck's wrong with you?" I hear him growl. He obviously wasn't happy.

I looked at him speechlessly. First you knee someone in the side, throw him to the ground, and _then_ ask him what the fuck was wrong with him? What was wrong with _you_, Woods?

"_What_?" Was all I could say because really, I was confused.

Woods stared at me. I could see frustration in his expression, and then it quickly turned into anger. I could always tell when Frank Woods was frustrated or angry. For him, those two were completely different things, but that difference only rested between a fine, thin line. When Woods was frustrated, he always spoke quickly and gruffly, then it often lead him into being angry. Now- when he was angry, it was shoot first, ask questions later. I was just thankful my friend didn't have a gun with him.

He was quiet, but I can hear him inaudibly mumble curses. I didn't understand his sudden anger. I hadn't done anything- well maybe yell at him just before blacking out. But Woods wasn't the kind of man to let words get the better of him, depending on the person that is. I also knew Frank didn't get pissed without a reason. Something was seriously eating at his ass, and I just knew it had something to do with me.

But _what_?

_4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42._

Fuck, not the numbers again. Why- why? Those same fucking numbers. I gripped the sides of my head and squeezed my eyes shut. I can hear Woods's voice faintly, but those numbers were drowning him out.

_4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42._

Rusalka. No, it was destroyed. It's gone damn it! Get out of my head! I couldn't take it, I screamed for them to go away, but they only got louder and pain shot through every inch of my skull. It was splitting my head in two. 4. 8. FUCK- get out! 15. 16. GET OUT! 23. 42.

"Mason!" I hear Frank's voice echo along with the numbers.

I opened my eyes to see the figure gripping at my arms, trying to pry them away from my head. But what I saw, it wasn't Woods. It was Reznov. Reznov. _I need Reznov._

"_NO MASON!_" The Russian voice rung in my ears and I recoiled at the pain that shot through my head.

"GOD.. DAMN IT!" This pain was so much worse then before.

"Mason!" Was that Reznov or Woods? I couldn't tell who was yelling my name. Those fucking numbers! They were so loud.

Shut up! Shut up! SHUT THE FUCK UP!

The voice halted. They were gone.

But Reznov was there. I didn't see him as I laid there panting frantically. But I could sense his presence. Because it was my mind that created him, I always knew when he was around. Always.

"Mason..." Woods's voice. He was hunched over me, like a child who needed to be comforted after experiencing his first bike accident.

I hated that feeling.

Silence.

I let my breathing calm down. For a moment, I just wanted to enjoy the silence. Reznov never left. He stood there in the corner, watching me. Why wasn't he over here? I needed him.. I need...

"Let go Mason." Viktor simply said.

Why?_ Why_? Didn't he understand? I could never let go. Never. Why did I need to?

"_Why?_" I asked him out loud.

I knew Frank could neither see or hear Reznov- because he was in my head. That's the only place he'll ever be.

* * *

_Switch POV: Frank Woods_.

I didn't know what to make of Mason's... episode. Just minutes before, he was about ready to rape me. Then he started going insane. Or berserk. Whichever was more intense. Any doubt I had of Alex's sanity was gone. I tried calming him down, but his flailing arms threatened to punch me. All I could do was fucking watch. I watched him scream, yell, beg. He wanted something to stop. I cringed at the sight. I looked away for only moments. I felt guilt. I couldn't help him deal with... this.

I heard him go silent. If it weren't for his heavy breaths, I would have been afraid he had just dropped dead.

"Mason..." I breathed out. I wasn't exactly sure what to say. I wanted to ask him those questions.

I wanted answers.

"_Why?_" I heard him say. I looked down at him instantly. Did he hear my thoughts? I would have been creeped out if it wasn't thanks to my years of service. I've seen too much shit on the battlefield.

I opened my mouth to say something, my voice didn't come out. I tried helping my friend up, but he only refused me. He had gotten up by himself.

"I'm fine."

I stare at him in disbelief. Fine, he says. Fucking fine? My bullshit meter was seriously flying off the charts. A Viet Cong almost stabbing you? Yeah, that was fine. Running through a god forsaken jungle for your life? Fine. BUT, fucking screaming your head off like maniac, hunched on the floor was no where considered _fine_ to me.

"_Really?_" I glare at him, "Mason. You're not fine."

He looks over to me with a troubled expression, and then returns my glare.

"Wh-"

"It's none of your fuckin' business Woods!" He yells instantly.

None of my business? After we've been friends for years, he tells me this wasn't any of my business. I told that son of a bitch almost everything. Well- I didn't need to. He was _there_ for most of it. After having a mental breakdown, he's going to tell me this was none of my fucking business? To hell with that. It angers again, and just when I thought I had pushed that incident from earlier out of my mind, it came back to haunt me. This was definitely my fucking business.

I grabbed him by the shirt.

"_Mason_. Don't you tell _me _what is my business and what isn't. After experiencing that, I think this is _my _fuckin' business."

He tears away from my grip, "Fuck off Woods."

God damn it! I always remembered Mason to be stubborn and I always hated that about him. It was one of the things about him that pissed me off. I was so close to giving him a bloody nose to match that bloody lip, which he now took a notice of. He ran his tongue over the cut and I could tell from his expression that he was wondering how he got it. I only hoped he wouldn't remember.

Silence.

He seriously wasn't going to tell me anything. Stubborn bastard. Defeated, I sat down on the small bed angrily with arms folded over my exposed chest. I see him look over to me and then towards the corner of the cell. He copies my actions and takes a seat on the other bed as well.

That fucking silence, I could cut it with a knife.

"How long have you been in here, Woods?" He finally speaks. Oh sure, he can ask me questions, but anything involving him was none of my fucking business.

I was obviously still sour about Mason, but reluctantly answered, "Six months."

I saw him look to the ground, his eyebrows narrowing. I saw memories flash through his eyes, obviously about this place. I sighed deeply.

"Mason. You were here before, and I just want to know," I paused, looking at him but he didn't move. "I just need answers. What did they do to you while you were here?"

Alex didn't answer me, and for a awhile, he just sat there staring at the floor. His eyes didn't blink. I would have thought he wasn't going to answer, but I continued looking at him. The cell was quiet again, and then he shifted.

"About a year, a whole god damned year.." He starts.

* * *

Over the past few days, Mason told me everything.

His brain washing. Viktor Reznov. The numbers. The interrogation. Everything.

I learned the whole time during our missions, Viktor Reznov was with us, in Mason's mind. That explained a lot. I could just remember Bowman asking Alex about something he muttered.

"_Come again?_"

Mason told me about his time in Vorkuta, and how he escaped from it. When we were put to work, I could tell the Soviets remembered Mason very well. I suggested we do the same as Reznov did in order to escape. But the security in Vorkuta was different now, Alex wouldn't give it a seconds thought. I learned that Reznov was _still_ with Mason, even though he had been gone after Dragovich's death. He hadn't made an appearance until Mason was back here.

I felt guilt because Mason was here because of me. When he found out I was alive, he went here to rescue me. Alone it seemed. I almost punched him when he said he went alone- wait, I did. Why didn't Hudson or Weaver, or _anybody_ come with him?

And during the time, I couldn't help but to wonder. What was Viktor Reznov to Alex?

I knew my friend respected the man more then just a friend, a soldier, and a mentor. What was he to Mason?

I never once spoke of what happened the first day I was transferred in with Mason. What he almost tried to do. I figured it was his insanity. And speaking of which- that "episode"- as I would call them, would happen every now and then. Those numbers would come back, and the he was screaming like a fucking maniac. I still don't know what to do about it- only blame Dragovich. When I reach hell, there was no telling what I would do to the bastard.

If hell even existed.

* * *

Mason would never go back to _old _Mason. I knew as much. I could never have that friend back ever again. But when you were stuck in a cell from working your ass off all day, you tend to get bored or tired. There were times where I caught glimpse of old Mason. That fucking obnoxious, walrus laugh never changed. Neither did his sarcastic remarks and counters to my sarcastic remarks and comments. I guess I could say I haven't changed much either. When Alex wasn't having one of his "episodes" or hallucinating about Reznov, he was as close as _old_ Mason could get.

I also noticed he doesn't eat as much now. It kind of bothers me. It was eat or starve. Alex should have known as much.

So when the door opened to our cell with a tray of bread loaves and water, I basically threw the loaf at him. It was sour dough bread, that's all they ever fed us. It tasted like shit, but like I said, it was eat or starve. To hell if I let me or Mason starve to death in here.

But he had to be stubborn.. Fucking Mason.

"I'm not hungry." He muttered offering me the loaf. I had already downed half of mine.

"Eat, damn it, Mason." I glare at him as I wiped crumbs from my unshaven chin.

"I said I'm not hungry." He snapped back, his voice more stern this time.

Oh my god, he was seriously going to be fucking stubborn about this. Normally, I would have let this go. But for the last few days, Alex has barely eaten anything except for the water. I don't even know what he shits out in that stomach of his. I stood, hovering over him.

"Mason, you barely ate anything for the past few days. You're going fuckin' die."

He stared at me hard. I stared at him back. Neither of us looked away from each other for another minute or so.

"I don't want it Woods. Fuck, just leave it." He turned to lay down on the bed,

Hell no, Mason. You aren't getting off that easily.

I reached forward to grab his by the shoulder and forcefully turn him to face me. I shoved that loaf of bread into his mouth and he immediately sits up, pushing me away.

He coughs and takes the bread from his mouth. Alex looks to me in anger.

"I said I wasn't fuckin' hungry!"

Mason pounces me and soon we're wrestling around the already cramped cell. I swear the other inmate could hear our yelling and banging on the concrete walls. I couldn't believe we were wrestling like five year old but fuck- he was going to eat that fucking bread even if I had to shove it down myself.

"Quit being a bitch Mason!" I yell as I fight off his arms. I really didn't know who was winning.

"Fuck off Woods!" He growls back.

"Stubborn bastard!"

"Inconsiderate fucker!"

We yelled more insults to each other as we continue banging around the room, it almost takes me back to the old times. This wasn't the mere tackling, head locking, and that soft shit. We were actually punching each other. I managed to lay some hits on him and he managed some on me. We both trained in what we did, we knew how to block, defend, and hit at the right time. So with two SOG soldiers trying to beat up the other, it didn't exactly work out.

That was when the day's work took a toll on me. My sore muscles eventually gave out and Mason had both my arms pinned down besides my head. I laid there out of breath and stared at him on top of me. He was breathless as well. We stared at each other for the longest of time. I didn't know why he hasn't gotten off of me yet- nor did I really want him to. Wait, did I just think that?

I didn't know if he could really read my thoughts or what. He moved, but not to get off. I felt his breath as he leaned down to connect his lips to mine. It was shy at first, but I guess he got over that quickly. His kiss became more rough and I felt a hand run through my short cut hair. Mason worked quick. He moved from my lips to my neck, leaving a trail of thin saliva.

Fuck- not this again.

I could only recall the time that happened only a few days before. But this time, Mason was fully awake. At least, I think he was.

"Mason..." I panted out.

"Yeah..."

Shit. He replied. _Oh shit_.

He moves from my neck back to my lips. Mason's kiss was rough and more hungry. I told him to eat that bread. But that wasn't the problem. _This_ was the problem. I knew I shouldn't be doing this, especially to my close friend. But fuck- I needed to. His hands travel to a very reactive part of me. I shouldn't be doing this. Stop. Now- fuck this feels good.

We broke apart for air when we realized we desperately needed it.

"You taste like fuckin' sour dough..." He says lowly, his hands never leaving their objective.

Sour dough. Shit, he needed to eat. And **NOT **be doing this. I had to fucking remind myself that.

"Eat. Mason."

He stops what he's doing and looks at me confusingly. That was when I kicked him off the small bed.

_Déjà vu._

He hits the floor twice in one week. ( I can only assume it's still the same week. )

"What the fuck?" He glares up at me, confusion mixed in with that anger he had.

Cock blocked, that's what. Although I refuse to ever tell him that. Because that meant I was willing. And I wasn't. I was able to convince myself it was the lack of oxygen.

"Fuckin' eat the bread or I'll shove it down your throat."

_

* * *

_**This should really be rated M, lolol.**

**Reviews are appreciated~  
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	4. Chapter 4

**"Vorkuta Skies"**

_Chapter 4  
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**WARNING: THIS COULD CONTAIN SPOILERS IF YOU HAVE NOT FINISHED/PLAYED THE GAME. CONTAINS YAOI, SLASH, MALE x MALE, (etc.). IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT, DO NOT READ IT. Thank you.**

**Rated for possible future chapters, contents, and of course, language.**

Pairing(s): Alex Mason/Franks Woods, possible Viktor Reznov/Alex Mason.

Summary: Woods miraculously survives the explosion after crashing through the window. He is captured and held captive at Vorkuta, Russia. When Mason receives an anonymous message about Woods's location, he's determined to save Woods with or without help. But with his brain washing not fully broken, just what will being back in Vorkuta do to Mason?

Disclaimer: Call of Duty Black Ops rightfully belong to Activision and Treyarch.

**AN: I honestly don't know how I'm not catching all of these typos/grammar errors. u_u'' I threw a little Hudson/Weaver moment in this cause I love those two. ouo-b I changed the rating of the story because of this chapter.  
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**Thanks for the reviews! They really make my day. n_n  
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**_Current POV: Frank Woods._

Neither of us spoke more then a word for the next two days. I don't know if he just didn't want to talk to me, or just didn't know what to say. I sure as hell didn't. I barely made any eye contact with Mason while we were stuck together. I successfully had gotten him to eat the bread, but he hasn't tried anything since then. I guess he now realizes the consequences of what he _almost_ tried to do. I couldn't read Alex's expression, so I didn't know what he was thinking. One thing I was sure of, he didn't want to talk about it, maybe even forget it. Hell, I wanted to. But we both knew it would always be there.

Unspoken.

But I was Frank Woods. I always wanted answers. What _exactly_ was Mason thinking? Feeling? I knew I couldn't pin the blame on that messed up head of his. We always had some sort of... well, bond. Not exactly the friend bond, it was always a bit more. We both knew it was there. Always. But it was always left, forgotten, unexpressed. Mason was my close friend, the only friend I had now. It was for the best.

_For the best_.

I hear Mason shifting.

I had became far too alert and weary with every move Mason made. It was fucking ridiculous...

I hear him mummer. He was asleep, and has been for a while now. He immediately crashed and shut down right after we were thrown back into our cell from a long day's work.

I let my muscles relax a little, but not too much. Even in his sleep, Alex was still _dangerous_.

There was only one way I could tell Mason was fully asleep. He mumbled. I don't really know what about- sometimes I only catch what he says when I strain my ears to listen.

"Reznov..." I hear him say.

It didn't exactly faze me. Mason has been saying that man's name in his sleep for the last few days.

"Wait.. Reznov..." He continues and I shift a little uncomfortably on my bed.

I'd be lying if I said this didn't bother me. It might have _a little_. It was because he would mummer some other man's name in his sleep. A man whose been dead for five years. It's not fucking normal, so I convinced myself I wasn't being a jealous fucking _boyfriend_ or anything like that. God no.

"Reznov..." He says again.

Viktor Reznov was dead, Mason. Why didn't he understand that? I know it was because he was brainwashed, but still. Alex needed to grasp the fact that Reznov was gone and he wasn't coming back. You can't hold on to someone for so long unless-

I pushed the thought away, not liking where it was going. I let out a long sigh as I let my head rest back on the concrete wall. I just needed to sleep. Why was I even sitting up and thinking about this? _So fucking tired_...

How long did it have to be before I- we- could get out this mess? I was so set on just dying here before Mason arrived. I can't believe that fucking idiot came here alone... and brought me the slightest chance for me to _hope_ I would make it out of here alive.

I wipe the sweat from my face while letting out another long sigh.

There was no doubt in my mind Hudson knew Mason wasn't going to come back by now. The CIA agent wasn't stupid. I wondered if the man would even bother planning a rescue mission to Vorkuta, or just consider Alex's situation fucked beyond all reason. Hudson couldn't just charge into Russia without a plan, I knew as much. ( Unlike that fucking retard laying on the other bed. ) The only thing I could do now was just, wait, hope, _pray_.

_But I wasn't religious._

* * *

_Switch Scene: CIA Headquarters | Switch POV: Jason Hudson, Grigori Weaver._

"I said no! That fucking bastard can die over there for being so _stupid_!" Weaver growled to the other CIA agent.

"Don't be irrational, Weaver. Mason is a big part of th-"

"I don't fucking care! I'm not risking my life, or yours, to go and save his stupid ass!" Grigori was angry. There was no one who could ever argue with angry Weaver and win.

No one except Jason Hudson.

The American CIA agent grabbed the Russian's wrist as he tried to leave.

Mason left for Vorkuta approximately eight days ago, and judging by the fact that he wasn't back yet- he was either killed or captured. There was another anonymous message left for Hudson two days ago stating that Alex Mason was also captured and is in Vorkuta along with the possible Frank Woods. Hudson couldn't track down this X person, and the only way he knew that Mason was still alive was through a call the CIA had received just a day previous informing them that they had an American held captive at Vorkuta.

Fucking idiot- Hudson could agree on that.

But, there was a debt left unpaid. Mason had saved both of their lives in the launch facility and in Khe Sanh. Mason's brainwashing had caused a rift with Weaver and Mason. The Russian's trust in the other American was wavering. Even so, an unpaid debt was still the same.

"He's saved both our lives, Weaver. We _owe_ him." Jason pointed out, looking at the angry Russian through his shades.

Weaver pulled from Hudson's grasp with eyes narrowed. His expression showing that his mind has been made up. There was nothing- no one- that could change it once it's been made.

No one except Jason Hudson of course.

"That doesn't cou-"

As the Russian was making his way out the door, the American CIA agent grabbed the other by the shoulder, forcing Weaver against the only table that was bolted in the middle of the room. Both of Hudson's arms trapped the target, closing the gap between their bodies, not allowing Grigori to move.

"Hudson! Fucking move!" Weaver hissed, his only working eye threatening the American.

The hairless man wasn't fazed as he leaned in to crash their lips together. Weaver did not object to it as his lips moved with the ones that invaded his. Their teeth gnawed together as one tongue fought the other for dominance. It wasn't long before the Russian was starting to remove the black tie that hung around Hudson's neck.

But Hudson broke the kiss, pulling away from the Russian as he snatched his loose tie from the others grasp.

"Let's go save Mason." The American simply stated as he basically strode out the door, fixing his tie in the process.

Grigori stared after him in disbelief, and then anger.

He let out a loud curse in his native tongue before marching off after the other CIA agent.

* * *

_Switch Scene: Vorkuta Labor Camp | Switch POV: Frank Woods_

Silence._  
_

It was then that I noticed Mason hadn't said anything for awhile now. I looked over to him.

Was he awake?

There was that eerie silence I hated.

I waited for him to shift, mumble, do _anything_.

"-ds..." He finally said. A broken word, but it was something.

I let out the breath I never realized I was holding. He was still sleeping. I hadn't caught his word, but at least he was still asleep.

Why was I so tense? Fucking Christ.. this was ridiculous. I pinched the bridge of my nose as I lay back against the concrete wall again. Sleep- I needed to sleep. I can't just sit here, staring at Mason like his fucking stalker. Shit, I just planted a disturbing thought in my brain.

I was about to let my body fall onto the hard mattress underneath me, but then I heard a name that sounded irregular. It was lucidly familiar, but it was irregular because the only name Mason ever said was fucking Reznov.

"_Woods_..."

My name. My eyes shoot open from trying to catch some rest. I stare over to his back that was facing me.

Was it the fucking heat- or did Mason really just mumble my name? My brows knitted together while I continued to stare at him, listening, unblinking.

He went silent again, and for a second, maybe I was imagining it. It was the heat- it was getting to me. Yeah, that was it.

"Woods." He says again, his voice more firm.

Now I know I heard it. Was he awake? Talking to me? Was suppose to fucking respond...? He was sleeping- or was he?

Sleep talking- I never believed in it, but with Mason, everything was just downright unpredictable.

"Y-yeah, Mason.." My voice was hoarse and I immediately regret responding back to an unconscious person.

You don't even know how fucking stupid I felt when he didn't say anything back. I buried my head into the palm of my hand, almost thankful it was only the two of us in the cell.

He was silent once again and I almost let out a loud curse.

"Reznov.."

What the fuck happened to my name? I stare at him again, almost irritated that he was back to dreaming about Reznov. I wasn't jealous, fuck no, I'd rather cut my own arm off then to ever say I was-

"Reznov..."

Fuck- I couldn't take it anymore.

Before I knew it, I was standing up, reaching forward, grabbing his shoulder, and forcing Mason over towards me. Like I did before when I shove that bread down his throat. I see his eyes flutter open, his expression twisting into confusion at being awaken so suddenly. I really don't know what came over me. Although I think I was going crazy from hearing Reznov's name way too many times. What the fuck happened to _my_ name damn it.

Before he has anytime to do anything else, I pull him upwards and roughly press my lips onto his. I feel him tense at first, probably trying to grasp what the hell was going on. _I_ didn't even know what was going on. It takes only one or two seconds for him to respond. He leans in hungrily into my kiss, his hand reaching upwards to my dark hair as my own hands firmly grasp the sides of his head.

The kiss wasn't romantic at all. You didn't have time for shit like that when you were a soldier. Mason's lips were rough, dry, nothing like a woman's. I never thought of myself being gay- but I fucking love the feel of it. I've had my share of women in the past, but somehow kissing Mason was a thousand times better. I might just blame this on the lack of "activity" later on.

I felt myself being pulled tighter to him, deepening our little session. His teeth bit my lower lip and I open my mouth to allow his tongue to invade mine. I could feel it searching, tasting everything. I wasn't going to play the bitch in this, so I push my tongue against his. It was a battle to see who dominated who, I don't think either of us won.

We broke for air- but only for a second. Mason pushes me back into my own bed and then hutches over me, pushing his lips on mine in hunger. I didn't have a clue to what was happening- why it was happening. I just needed it too. He pushed my back into the concrete wall as if suggesting he was in charge here. Fuck him. I bite at his tongue, earning me a groan from him.

In the heated moment, I can feel my lower half reacting and as to what I can see, so was Mason's.

But _god, _Mason knew how to ruin a fucking moment.

I felt his hands tug on my bandanna and my hands immediately grab at them. I bare my teeth to warn him, but he should have already known. I was _Frank Woods_.

He growls in disapproval.

"Just take the fuckin' thing off. It smells." Mason tries to capture my lips again, but I quickly move my head.

"It's like asking me to take my balls off too." I shoot back at him, "Get off."

He stares at me in disbelief and I can't blame him. I was the one who started this after all.

"Are you kidding? You're suggesting we fuckin' _stop_?"

Alex had a point there. _Both_ of us were past the point of no return.

I opened my mouth to say something back, but I feel his hand roughly grabbed the aroused part of me. _Mother fucker_- I bite my lip hard to hold back a moan. I wasn't going to cave, fuck- don't cave. He leans in and bites my neck. Hard. I don't even know if he drew blood or not. His hand was working on my lower half, slowly. Too **fucking slowly**. Son of a bitch, I almost hate the fucking bastard right now.

But I'd be damned if I ever begged him. If Mason didn't want to play nice, Frank Woods didn't have to either.

My hands move to roughly grab his own arousal through the fabric covering it.

"Shit-" He hisses as he buckles into my touch.

I almost smirk. He glares at me for half a second and then presses his lips into mine again. I didn't object it this time. Mason's hands move to the end of my shirt ( I was wearing one today unfortunately ), tugging at it almost hesitantly and then finally just pulling it over my head. His comes off next. And then he stops for a second when he gets to my pants. He was having trouble with my zipper. It seemed like it didn't want to cooperate with Mason, or I just put on a few pounds. He lets out angry curses as I fucking laugh my head off.

Alex finally gets the zipper down but I can't stop laughing now. I can hear him yelling at me to shut the fuck up, but I ignore him.

I think he's fed up by now, because I feel him sharply bite down on my torso. My laughter dies as pain shoots through my nervous system. My mood immediately turns around as I hiss at him.

"Fuck-"

"Then the shut the fuck up."

Fuck him._ I_ wasn't going to play the bitch in this. I reached and grab Mason by the short, brown hair and pull his head up to meet mine. I pull his body, switching or position so now he was pressed against the wall instead of me. Mimicking him, I lean forward and bite down hard onto his neck. I feel him shudder as my teeth sinks into his flesh. My tongue soon glides over my bite marks and he arches. A hand goes into my short cut hair- and he pulls at the bandanna again.

Fucking Mason.

This time it comes off and I pull away to yell at him. But my mouth was again covered by his.

It seemed like Mason didn't want to play the bitch either. He grabs me forcefully presses me against the mattress this time. I wanted to object, but with his hand working at my erection, I just couldn't. Our breathing slowly increases and I hadn't even realized his pants were removed. I don't even know when he had taken them off, but fuck- I didn't care. I let out groans I stubbornly wanted to keep in as the speed of his hand increases. There was no warning or preparation before he penetrates me.

"What- fuck!" I shout. My hands gripped the thin sheets of the bed, my expression twists into pain.

Mason doesn't seemed fazed by it. He leans down and kisses my neck as he moves slowly first, but then faster.

It was strange, I wasn't going to lie. But shit- it felt damned good.

We didn't say anything to each other. The bed creaked, our grunts of pleasure and pain were heard. I could have sworn or neighboring cell could hear us.

The thing left forgotten and unexpressed finally caught up with us.

* * *

The next day was no different from the day before.

We got up. Worked. Went back to our cell. Ate. Slept.

The same damned thing. Approximately another two days passed.

Nothing.

Neither of us spoke about that day. I'm not sure we even knew how. We fucked, it was as simple as that. I immediately regretted what I did. I wasn't thinking straight. I couldn't have been.

Mason hasn't spoken more then a word to me since. I may have just fucked up our friendship.

His mental breakdowns have gotten worse. Alex wakes up screaming now. He apologizes for something- though I'm sure I already know why.

* * *

_Switch POV: Alex Mason._

I can't believe it.

I _betrayed_ Reznov. Betrayed. Forgotten.

He never appeared in front of me again. Not matter how hard I tried to think. I couldn't see him. Where was he? I desperately wanted to see him. I wanted to see Reznov. Why was he always gone?

The only place he would appear was in my sleep. When I slept, I saw Reznov.

And when I slept, he would always leave.

"Mason..." I heard his voice echo through my mind. He was there.

He knew what I did. Oh _god_, he knew.

"I'm sorry Reznov. I'm s-" I choke on my own words.

Viktor looks at me without an expression. I didn't know what he was thinking. Even though he was only in my head. I didn't know. Why? Why? I wanted to know. I wanted to know god damn it! I reached towards him but I could never reach him. I could walk, run, _crawl_, but never could I reach him.

"I'm so sorry."

He shakes his head at me, and by now, I know that he's leaving.

No. NO! He couldn't go! I needed him!

"Reznov! Reznov!" I practically scream at the top of my lungs.

And then a familiar voice.

"Mason!" It echoes through my head, "Mason! Wake up!"

"NO! I need Reznov!" I shout back.

Something hits me and it pulls me out of my dream state.

Pain shoots through my jaw and my vision focuses to see Woods. I can tell by his expression, he was angry.

"Get a fuckin' grip Mason!" He shouts at me. But I refuse to look at him.

My body is suddenly jerked back hard into the concrete wall behind me. I wince a bit and growl at the SOG soldier in front of me. His hands gripped my shirt collar tightly- but even so, I feel his hands shake.

"Mason, listen to me. Reznov is _dead._" Those familiar words I didn't want to hear. "He's _never_ coming back! Don't you understand?"

By now, I was frustrated. I knew all of this. I already knew this. I was there when he died! What did Woods know? He didn't know anything at all! I pushed him back with all the force I had in my body. I watched as his back crashed with the other end of the room, his expression mixed with both pain and anger.

"Fuck. You. Woods!" I scream at him, "I fuckin' know, alright! I know!"

He's dead.

"I know." I repeated.

Viktor Reznov is dead.

"I-" My voice caught in my throat. I put both hands to my head as I sat in the bed, hunched over myself.

God, I _realized_ Reznov was dead.

"_Let go, Mason._" Reznov's voice echoes through my skull.

"He's dead..." I finish.

I hadn't cried in _years_. It was fucking ridiculous as I felt those tears fall down my cheeks and my breathing hitched as I tried to force it back. It was ridiculous that Woods pushed my head into his chest, as I fucking bawled like a five year old..

* * *

**AN: I suck at writing sex. ono I apologize for typos and grammer, but I'm really tired and wanted to publish this asap. xD**

**Chapter 5 might be the last of it. I'm not sure.**

**Thanks for reading!  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**"Vorkuta Skies"**

_Chapter 5  
_

* * *

**WARNING: THIS COULD CONTAIN SPOILERS IF YOU HAVE NOT FINISHED/PLAYED THE GAME. CONTAINS YAOI, SLASH, MALE x MALE, (etc.). IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT, DO NOT READ IT. Thank you.**

**Rated for possible future chapters, contents, and of course, language.**

Pairing(s): Alex Mason/Franks Woods, hinted Viktor Reznov/Alex Mason.

Summary: Woods miraculously survives the explosion after crashing through the window. He is captured and held captive at Vorkuta, Russia. When Mason receives an anonymous message about Woods's location, he's determined to save Woods with or without help. But with his brain washing not fully broken, just what will being back in Vorkuta do to Mason?

Disclaimer: Call of Duty Black Ops rightfully belong to Activision and Treyarch.

**AN: Last chapter. "orz Thanks to _CaptainMason_ for the black eye idea! And thanks all for reviewing and reading! n_n I know it's a bit late for remembering the mission where Woods spoke and understood Russian but I would like to say I totally failed in the first chapter. "orz Sorry guys, so in this one, Woods can understand what the Russies are saying.  
**

* * *

_Switch POV: Frank Woods._

I couldn't believe he fucking hit me. I half blamed myself for not being on guard, but I never expected his fist to swiftly connect with my right eye.

I glare bitterly towards the man on the other bed as I hold my swollen, bruised eye. It was one hell of a punch, I have to give it to him. But Christ- he didn't have to go as far as to hit me. Mason had yelled at me soon after he took a swing at me. Through pain and mixed emotions, I heard him blame me for Reznov. I was the reason why the man _left_. He was never fucking here in the first place but in Mason's mind, he was.

And now we sit in heavy silence as I practically burn holes into his back with my eyes. Of course I was angry. I had every right to. So we fucked, alright. There were no actual... _feelings_ in it. As I recalled, neither man said, "I love you". We simply did it because he had to. Both of us needed something. So why the fuck was it all my fault?

I why did I feel so fucking _guilty_?

I really wonder. Why did I feel so remorseful staring at my friend's back as he slightly trembles. I had to look away in order to not succumb to apologizing him. But even looking away made me feel like a guilty boyfriend who just cheated on his girlfriend. It fucking sucked.

Mason whispered something inaudible. I looked back briefly to notice he had stopped trembling but his back was still facing me. I decided not to get involved or question him. We had moments before just ended a feud with both of us screaming our heads off, which reminded me that I needed to be angry, not feeling guilty. I touched the bruised eye softly and left out a low hiss as it stung. Fucking Mason...

I hear him shift on the other side. This time I didn't bother looking at him.

"Woods." He says. I didn't look up.

Masons tries again and I ignore him. He then goes silent for a while after attempting to get my attention. By now, I can feel tension in the closet space we called a room. Alex moves again and I can tell by the noises of his fabric that he's standing up.

"Just- look at me damn it!" He says through gritted teeth and then I feel his hand force my head up. I can tell with the expression on his face that he's angry. But it was mixed with something else I couldn't pinpoint.

It made me angry as well.

"What Mason? What the fuck do you want to say? Sorry I punched you? It's going to take a lot more then a fucking sorry to make up for this black eye you bastard!" I growl at him. He doesn't approve of my words as he raises his hands to push me hard into the wall behind me.

I see him grab at his short brown hair with frustration painted on his face. My eyebrows narrow at him. I had planned to wait for him to say something, but my anger was in control right now.

"Some fuckin' gratitude for actually giving two shits! And for what? All I ever hear is Reznov this, Reznov that. Reznov's not fuckin' here Mason! He's gone!" I should have stopped and thought about it. I should have hit him back, but only angry words slipped from my tongue. "What we did meant _nothing, _it's not my damned fault so get it through that fucked up brain of yours! Sorry for breaking that _special_ bond between you and your dead fuck buddy you piece of shit."

I couldn't explain the emotions on Alex's face. I saw his eyebrows raise and then fall. I could tell he wanted to be angry, shocked, and maybe even sad. His eyes fell to the ground as he sat back down on the small bed. His eyes stared blankly ahead of him. I knew I may have just fucked him up more then he already was. Shit.

"Mason, I-" I started, but he shook his head slowly.

"Mason..." I tried again. He wouldn't even look at me, and I felt like one of the biggest asses in the world.

Silence washed over us again. Then Mason broke it with three words that just exploded in my face.

"I'm sorry Frank..."

_Fuck._

* * *

Mason didn't talk to me, he didn't look at me. Not even when I threw away every dignity I had in my body to apologize, plead him, practically begged on my knees. I just screwed up our friendship big time. It practically killed me when he left the room without hesitation or words when they came to get us to work. I shitted bricks every time Alex would stop working and the Soviets had to hold a barrel to his fucking head to get him going again.

_I'm sorry Mason. I'm sorry Mason. Forgive me._

How many times did I have to say it? Plead it, before he would look at me?

"_I'm sorry Frank..._"

It was the last three words he said to me. Mason didn't even bother to call me Woods. It was the worse thing to have said to me at that moment. I wondered if he planned it? Did he know by just saying those simple words, I would feel so fucking horrible about this whole thing? If this were a game, I was losing.

He still didn't say anything to when we were back in our cell. His eyes never once met mine and plain _guilt_ just grabbed me by the balls. Mason was starting to look like a wounded puppy. And the more I looked at him, the more it frustrated the hell out of me. By now, it was starting to piss me off. I knew it wasn't right to get peeved at something I had caused- but Alex needed to man up. I only said it out of anger, and we both knew it was fucking true. He could deny it all he wanted in his mind but I knew that he knew I was right.

I looked at him as his head hung low, staring at the ground. I haven't heard about Reznov ever since I blew up on Mason. Nor did I ever hear Mason muttering in his sleep. Usually he would wake up screaming about numbers and Reznov. I didn't hear anything from him, only his audible breathing. It was the only thing reassuring me he was still alive. Mason sat like a wall on the other bed. Barely moved or twitched. Only when he would lay down and sleep- or maybe attempted to. His eyes were dark with sleeplessness which half explained why I didn't hear about Reznov anymore.

It both relieved and concerned me. I couldn't believed I was actually hoping Reznov would come back into his mind. At least Mason was somewhat Mason. I didn't even recognize this person in the cell with me. Whoever it was, it wasn't Alex. Although Alex would never be the same.

My thoughts were interrupted hen I heard Mason get up suddenly in mid-scream, panting. I was half awake, his voice that caught in his throat woke me up fully. I see him grab at his throat with his mouth wide open. I can hear him let out small gasp as if he's choking. It took me a moment or two to realize he was.

"Mason!" I get up immediately, nearly falling hard onto the concrete floor as I scrambled over to my friend.

He makes short choking sounds that catch in his throat. I don't really know what he's suffocating on, probably the thick, putrid air. I frantically shout his name as he continues to choke. Mason's eyes close tightly as he desperately tries to breath. When his body fell forward, my heart almost dropped to the floor as I grab and shake him by the shoulders.

"Stay with me damn it! Alex!" I don't know if he can hear me and by now, I don't know what to do. I wasn't a doctor.

Breath Mason! Breathe!

He doesn't.

So I grabbed his jaw and press my mouth on his. I breathed into Mason's throat to get some kind of air into his lungs. I pull back as he coughs hard and loudly. Alex's face twists in pain as he coughs. Relief washed over me when he starts to breath in gasps. The fucking bastard nearly gave me a heart attack. I almost let myself fall on him, but I ended up just hovering over Mason using both my arms for support. It was then that I noticed I was heavily breathing as well, relieved that Mason was just breathing.

We said nothing to each other as both men regained our breaths. But he looks at me. He finally fucking looks at me. I stare at him with no expression on my face, but my insides were going haywire and I didn't know which expression I should make. I looked in his eyes and for a second, caught a glimpse of _Alex Mason_.

Once I was sure Mason was breathing normally again, I went to straightened myself up. My actions stop short when Mason reaches out to tightly wrap his arms around me. I was pulled down to a sitting position as his head buries itself into the crook of my neck. It caught me off guard and freeze a little. I wasn't a close contact type of person. Which was probably why most of the women I've been with left me.

It took me some time to un-freeze my arms. I slowly wrap them around Mason, his body was trembling slightly against mine. I almost push him off when I felt something warm on my neck. He had opened his mouth to talk. Mason mumbles to my neck and his grip around me tightens, almost suffocating me.

What he said, it was muffled, but I heard it.

"I need you, Woods."

* * *

I didn't remember falling asleep.

There was loud crash right outside our cell that roused me. I woke up feeling groggier then usual. As I attempted to move, something held me back. I looked down to see Mason's death grip still around my torso. A sudden flashback went through my head of what happened and how we ended up like this. Even though I had fallen asleep sitting against the wall, Mason still somehow managed to not release me.

I intended not to wake him up as I thought about what he said to me. This meant I was forgiven, right? But beside the obvious point, what exactly was I to Mason. He told me he needed me- but he also needed Reznov. Now that the other was "gone", was I a rebound? Or is Mason just confused? I rub my forehead through the bandanna with one hand, frowning as a realization hit me.

Mason didn't need _me_, he needed a new fuck buddy. With Reznov officially dead in his brain, Alex needed someone else. It didn't have to be me. I was only convenient. I looked down at his sleeping form, thinking that he probably did this to Reznov before. I was only second best after all.

Our cell door suddenly opened and light flooded the closet space. I had to shield my eyes as Mason sat up next to me. Two Soviet guards entered with loaded guns. They were shouting too fast for me to catch what they were saying. I heard "American" and "they are here", but that was about all I caught.

They stopped a split second to look at the both of us, and then one pointed his gun towards Mason and the other to me.

"Get up!" The guard demanded in English with a heavy accent.

Neither of us had any time to react when the man pulled Mason to his feet and was already forcing my friend out the door. He protested loudly despite the fact that he could be shot at any moment. I saw him resist against the guards as I got up and made an attempt to grab Mason's arm. From the doorway came two more Soviets who grabbed my arms and restrained me from helping Mason.

"Get the fuck off! Woods!" Alex shouted when he and I both saw a guard raise the butt of their gun over my head.

"Woods!"

It was the last thing I heard before blacking out.

* * *

_Switch POV: Alex Mason._

"Fuck you! Let go you bastards!" I shouted angrily towards the guards who forced me away from my cell. I could tell they were getting frustrated with my struggling when they pointed a gun to my head. But it didn't stop me from protesting.

I attempted to run back to the room where Woods laid, unconscious from a blow to the head. But damn these bastards had an iron grip. I let out a agitated growl as they forced me further and further away. Before we turned the corner, I saw the guards exit our cell and bolted the door shut.

"WOODS!" I screamed at the top of my lungs even though there was no way he could hear me.

It surprised me that they haven't shot me yet, though they kept the gun jammed roughly into my temple. Even with the chance that the man could press that trigger at any moment, I still went against their will. I pulled at my arms to get free. I tried to kick them, yell at them, but nothing worked. Why haven't they killed me yet? And where were they taking me. I kept my teeth gritted as they walked me like a fucking dog. If their grip wasn't like steel, I would have turned and grabbed the nearest gun to shoot them all down.

The hallway the lead me through look vaguely familiar, but I didn't have much time to look as we walked quickly. We finally stopped in front of a plain white door, it almost looked innocent in this hell hole. They wasted no time opening it and throwing my body into the darkness. When the door slammed shut, I felt more hands that roughly grabbed me and forced me to my feet. I felt something drape over my eyes, a blindfold. I growled at the ones inside the room as they tied the cloth around my head. I was forced to sit on a chair and they pulled my arms behind my back to restrain them with a rope. The color of the blind fold lightened which told me they had flicked the light on. I heard them consult with one another. I strained my ears listening to them, but they were muttering too low.

Were they finally going to kill me? If I died, what would happen to Woods? _Woods_- I needed to save him.

_4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42._

I heard familiar numbers echo in my ears. For a second, my breathing stopped. My body stilled, terrified of hearing those numbers again. My mind stayed empty as I listened. Nothing. I couldn't hear anything. For a second, I almost missed those numbers. It was when I saw Reznov, those numbers would replay in my brain. I wanted to see..

No! He's dead!

"_He's dead Mason!_" Woods's voice echoed in my ears. I knew that. I knew it. My teeth gritted tightly as the Soviets talked around me. I wasn't listening to them anymore. I didn't care what they were saying. I wanted to go back. To that cell. To Woods. I needed Frank Woods. I needed him to reassure me, to remind me, Reznov was dead. I-

The feeling of realization was overwhelming. It felt like hands shook me out of a deep sleep for some years. Woods was always _there_. He was always with me. Always. He's saved me multiples times. He shook me awake from my nightmares. He calmed me down when I was screaming my head off. Why didn't _Reznov_ ever do that?

"Because you do not need me Mason." Viktor's voice ghosted in my head. I didn't need him. I never did.

Even with the blindfold on, I could see the man whom I thought had left my thoughts forever.

"You're right..." I spoke, I wasn't sure if it was out loud or not. My eyes closed from behind the dark cloth. I didn't want to see Reznov anymore.

"Goodbye my friend." _Goodbye._

Goodbye, Reznov._  
_

I tried tugging at the ropes binding me in the chair for the first time since they've tied me down. I heard them yell at me to stop. I felt them grab my shoulder, but I continued struggling. I wanted to see Woods. I managed to kick someone and continued trying to kick when I heard the grunt of pain. Let me see Woods damn it!

"-son!" I froze for a second. The voice that shouted my name was so familiar, it had to be a fucking joke.

I didn't say anything, didn't move.

"Mason." They said again. I felt the blindfold being tugged from my head. I was almost afraid to look up. When I did, I saw two men. One with a shaved head, the other with an eye patch.

"Hu-Hudson? Weaver?" I croak, staring at the two astonished. How- What-

"We're getting you out of here Mason." Hudson spoke to me. We weren't alone. The Soviets in the room never left.

I don't even know what Hudson did to easily stroll into Vorkuta, asking or demanding for my release. I only stared as they consulted with the Vorkuta guards. It felt strange, like a dream, as they freed my hands. With a rough push, they basically threw me to my handler.

"You are the most irresponsible, stupid, stubborn fucking idiot I've ever known." Weaver says to me with a scowl on his face. I almost laugh at him. "I can't believe we came all the way here to just save you.."

Save. Save Woods. That was why I was here in the first place.

Woods.

I practically shove Grigori to the side as I grab Hudson by the arm. My handler stops mid-sentence as I hear the Russian CIA growl at me.

"Woods is alive." I whisper to him.

His expression goes from neutral, to surprised, and then back to neutral. It's what you got from a fucking ice cube.

"Mason, I know you-"

"I'm not leaving without him!" I cut him off with a harsh tone. If he thought for a second I would get my fucking ass captured and worked to death to only leave without the one person I was here for, Hudson had another thing coming.

The CIA puts on a strained expression as he sighs. He turns from me and back to the Soviets he had been previously negotiating with. Hudson mutters something towards the man. The room is suddenly erupted with shouts.

"No! Only one! That was the deal!" A guard yells angrily. I wasn't sure what this "deal" was, but this bastard wasn't going to let us get Woods. Fine. They only chose the hard way. I hands were getting rusty from not holding a gun in awhile anyways...

* * *

_Switch POV: Frank Woods._

An alarm nearly split my head in two. I cry out as it nearly bursts my ear drums. Another thing that adds to the head ache I received.

Why the fuck was the alarm going off? A prison break? Then why the fuck was I still in here?

I moved over to the cell door to listen to anything outside. But the alarm proved to be the loudest thing in the place.

I groan in frustration at the loud fucking thing. And the possible prison break that might have been going outside. Even with the alarm ringing through my ears, I only wondered if Mason was alright. The last thing I remembered before getting a blow to the head was Mason being dragged away. Where did they take him? Was he already dead? Was he trying to escape right now?

Taking a seat on the previously occupied bed, I bury my head into hands. The alarm scrambled my thoughts and only got louder the more I wished for it to shut the fuck up.

The cell door suddenly flew open. More like kicked open actually. I looked as I block my eyes from the blinding light. A silhouette stands at the door, that look very familiar.

"Mason!" I stand up in shock as he enters the cell.

"What are y-"

"No time Woods! There's about a hundred dozen of guards at our ass!"

He tosses me an AK which I quickly caught. I only look at him like he was crazy. Mason smirks slightly at me.

"Hope you remember how to use a gun." Of course I did. I was Frank Woods. But how-

"Mason! Let's go!" Another voice cuts in as a third party steps at the frame of the door. It was Hudson. They were here? I didn't have anymore time to be shocked. Mason had pulled me through the door. Instantly, my soldier instincts kick it. Shoot, and try not to get shot.

* * *

I couldn't believe we were making out way _out_ of Vorkuta.

Prisoners decided to fight back as soon as the alarm had gone off. They held back guards, stole their guns, and used it against them. Many worked together, others threw sharp rocks and pushed down heavy boulders. It seemed like a riot in my eyes. Not only did the guards have to focus on capturing us, but pushing back hordes of prisoners.

"Come on! This way!" Hudson's voice yells above all commotion as we shoot and follow him.

I didn't know what was going on Mason's mind, but in my mind, it was, "Holy shit. Holy shit. I'm going to fucking shit myself."

Everything happened like a blur. I don't even know where we ran. How I managed to avoid bullets as I shot at the Soviets trying to stop us. How I managed the energy to run like a fucking cheetah. I just wanted to get out. Out of Vorkuta. Out of hell- maybe I'll become religious if I made it out of here.

"Blow it up!" Hudson's voice echoes as we run towards a dead end.

I almost forgot what an explosion was and how it could kill me. Mason had to pull me back from running right into the C4s planted on the wall. It explodes, shaking the ground underneath us and scattering bits of the once invisible wall. Sunlight fills through the hole, but I didn't have time to mesmerize it. There was helicopter hovering and Hudson's voice once again echoes through my ears. I wasn't sure what he said. But I already knew. I grab Mason and we both run towards the chopper as bullets whiz past us and seemingly bounces off the helicopter's surface.

We jumped, though I lost my footing when we landed. Mason grabs me and yells something which I don't hear either. Weaver mouths the words "go! go!"

We escaped. I couldn't fucking believe we escaped. We were in the helicopter, flying away from Vorkuta. I didn't even care when RPG missiles came to close for comfort. We were _alive_, and I could see the sky. I didn't know it could be so blue. My eyes nearly hurt from just staring at it, but I didn't care. I continued to stare at the Vorkuta Sky.

The helicopter's loud propeller s suddenly fill my ears as I suddenly become aware of sound again. I feel something rest on my shoulder and I turn to see Mason. The sky slowly takes away the numbness of our senses as we realize how good it felt to breath. He sits next to me and looks out of the open door of the chopper.

We didn't say anything, only listened to the sounds of the helicopter taking us away from Vorkuta.

"Woods." He finally says.

"Yeah."

He didn't say anything. Mason's hand merely reached over to grab mine. I didn't know if were holding hands or what.

"..I lo.. -oods." Alex's words were drowned out with the sound of the helicopter and my tiredness.

"Yeah, Mason." I merely reply back in my state of drowsiness. When my body falls onto his, I didn't even bother moving, or even thinking what would Hudson and Weaver think. Mason didn't push me off and I let my eyes close.

Something echoes in my ears before my mind goes black.

_4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42..._

* * *

**AN: DUNDUNDUN, what does that mean? o_o I know I rushed horribly with the ending. I was so tired though. "orz**

**Thanks so much for reading this story! Hope you enjoyed it! And thank you for the reviews!  
**


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